Before going to bed last night, I finished the drama "British Scandal", which is short, humorous, and desolate enough. In our life, due to the decline of biological mechanisms, we will forget many things, a certain person, a certain scene, a certain period of time. But there must be such a flash of inspiration, and the broken memories swarmed, our beautiful, necrotic, regrettable, they can't be screened by themselves, irrational, flooding into the eyes.
The whole play is filled with a light and humorous soundtrack of black comedy, the rhythm is brisk, it seems to be an understatement of life, but it is burdened with the shackles of history, imprisoned desires, nature dominated by desires, and rationality awakened by nature. At the end of the third episode, Jeremy held champagne and celebrated "victory" with the media. A shot stayed in the distance in his eyes, and the afterglow of the sunset was not as bleak as the desolation in his eyes at that moment. He, finally, and that person, with the law as the boundary, the relationship between human beings is clear. See you again, no need to recognize each other.
In the courtroom, under the lens of the media, Scott's magnanimity and his loneliness broke the shackles of the times inch by inch with every statement. In the end, he sat in the empty bus, and in the uninterlaced shots, the silent response was also like a tacit farewell.
So, I like the last ten minutes of the whole play the most. All the real emotions are hidden behind the camera, and the dark tide is surging but no sound can be made, like a throat. It was an indescribable period of time, the years of cuddling with each other and the misunderstanding of love, and even if he was let down in the end, he would still be easily stunned by the sentence "you loved him", don't you love him?
The old is more forgetful, love or not, the world is still the same.
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